


Exploration

by acciomerlin



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bisexuality, Canon Compliant, M/M, Modern Era, Post-Canon, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24371173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciomerlin/pseuds/acciomerlin
Summary: Arthur comes back in the twenty-first century and discovers the wonders of bisexuality. Merlin is a huge help, in more ways than one.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 437





	Exploration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mergwen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mergwen/gifts).



Arthur was jolted awake by a sharp sting of pain on his cheek and he sat up, his eyes flying open in alarm. It took him a minute to get his bearings –mornings were not very agreeable with him. He brushed a finger across the throbbing on his face and his finger came back with a spot of blood.

The perpetrator of this hate crime, of course, was sitting rather smugly in front of him...licking the claws she had attacked him with and looking mightily pleased with herself. Arthur had never met her namesake but he just knew that he'd prefer the original dragon Aithusa to this abominable feline Aithusa any day.

"What is your problem with me?" he hissed at her. " _Mangy beast_ , I don't know _what_ Merlin sees in you."

Aithusa ignored him, and sauntered towards the kitchen with her tail swishing.

Arthur glared at her back before being assaulted in the gut and he looked down to see Merlin sleepily digging his knee into Arthur's stomach. They were on the sofa, having fallen asleep while watching a movie the night before, and Merlin was half draped over him with his long legs on Arthur's lap and his head cushioned on the other side of the sofa. He was breathing deeply, his eyes still closed.

There was a painful crick in Arthur's neck and his back was twisted uncomfortably but he didn't shove Merlin off immediately. Maybe it was because he was still not fully in control of his brain functions but he found himself just looking at Merlin, strangely transfixed.

The morning light was softly filtering in through the curtains and Merlin looked rather sweet, a calmness reflecting in his features that was rare to catch in his waking hours. Despite his impossible age, he looked so young like this –snuffling softly in sleep, his hair a dark mess and his lean body completely relaxed.

Admiring Merlin physically...yes, he had always done that. Even if Arthur did get slightly disconcerted at times when it resembled too closely to how he admired a woman's body. As though he wanted to touch it, to trail his hands down the skin of the arms. But he never let this ridiculous stream of intrusive thoughts continue, because that's all it was. Ridiculous. It didn't do to dwell on such things. Merlin was a good-looking lad and there was nothing wrong with admitting that. That's all there was to it.

He straightened up and peeled Merlin's legs off him, causing the warlock to groan.

"Get _up_ , idiot,” Arthur said without any heat in his words and poking Merlin’s side.

Merlin glowered at him through half-lidded eyes and then sat up slowly. "Wait. You're bleeding,” he said, leaning closer. “I thought Aithusa would've warmed up to you by now."

Merlin waved a hand and Arthur felt the dull itching pain on his cheek recede.

Arthur swatted at him. "That cat is a menace and _Stop_. _Healing. Me. All. The. Time."_

Merlin snorted, easily avoiding him and stood up, stretching his limbs. "You're running out of things to complain about, Arthur."

"I'm serious," Arthur grumbled. "I'm not some bloody damsel in distress."

"No, I know. You'd be much less of a pain in the arse if you were," Merlin remarked.

Aithusa, having reappeared at hearing Merlin's voice, wrapped herself lovingly around his ankle as if in total agreement of the suffering Arthur inflicted upon them both.

Arthur retorted in the form of a well-aimed cushion.

**

"See, I learned somewhere around the 9th century that feverfew is truthfully a lot better than betony to treat migraines, no offence to Gaius' remedies–” 

"This conversation is giving me a migraine," Arthur muttered, touching a plant with red leaves, just for the sake of doing something.

“–but everybody is so dependent on allopathic medicine these days that I have the hardest time actually finding feverfew-” Merlin prattled on undeterred but Arthur had had quite enough. He effectively tuned his friend out and looked around the nursery filled with the most wonderful assortment of plants and herbs and flowers he'd seen. Unfortunately, Arthur still couldn't care less about it all and was (im)patiently waiting for Merlin to be done so they could go eat something.

Merlin had promised him lunch after they made a “quick stop” at his favourite plant shop. Being the trusting person he was, Arthur had agreed. But it seemed that Merlin's habit to lie had persisted all these years because so far, _quick_ wasn't the word to describe it. Personal punishment specially designed for Arthur where the time went excruciatingly slow was more like it.

As Merlin "ooh"ed at a particularly dull-looking pot of herbs, Arthur spotted two teenaged boys giggling amongst themselves at the end of the aisle and almost sagged with relief at seeing other humans. He watched as one of the boys looked around for the owner of the nursery and sneakily plucked a beautiful rose from behind the other boy and presented it to him with a flourish and a wink.

Arthur froze. He couldn't turn his eyes away as the pair blushed and laughed and leaned into each other for a kiss. On the lips. A kiss that was far from chaste.

"Arthur what –are you even listening to me -" Merlin trailed off and followed his gaze to the couple embracing intimately. His eyes widened and he grabbed Arthur's elbow to turn him away from the sight.

" _Don't stare_ ," he admonished lowly. "That's rude."

Arthur's attention snapped to Merlin and he spluttered "They are -they were -they're both _men_ , Merlin -"

"Yes, they are," he answered, his countenance defiant and fiery all of a sudden. "And there's nothing wrong with that. I know it's going to take some getting used to but it's perfectly acceptable now for two men to be a romantic relationship. Or two women. Or anyone in between."

Arthur didn't know what ‘anyone in between’ was even supposed to mean.

He gawked at Merlin, the inside of his skull feeling it was filled with wool. "Wha -really?"

"Yes, _really_. Does it even matter?" asked Merlin almost nervously, his eyes guarded and vulnerable at the same time. "As long as they love each other, right?"

Arthur's mind was fuzzy and he was barely registering the words coming out of Merlin's mouth.

He shook his head to clear it and stammered, "I don't -I suppose so? I'm not –”

Merlin sighed, running a resigned hand through his hair. "Look, whatever your thoughts on the subject, keep them to yourself for now and don't stare next time. It's honestly quite normal."

After a long moment, Arthur nodded, still utterly dazed.

"Good," said Merlin. "I'm done here anyway. Let's go. We can't have the king starving, can we?"

**

On the way back, Arthur was quiet on the outside but his mind was a relentless flurry of thoughts and emotions. He just couldn't wrap his head around it. How? _How?_

Merlin must've noticed his state of disturbed contemplation but he didn't comment on it.

That night, Arthur lay in bed wide awake with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach as he relived every time he'd felt a frisson of attraction towards a knight or stable-boy or nobleman in Camelot and had dismissed it entirely.

The memory of a fleeting kiss he'd shared with one of his father's manservants surfaced to his mind. Goodness, he'd almost forgotten about that. He'd been barely fifteen, the other boy a couple of years older and they were just fooling around, roughhousing and wrestling like young boys often do. Uther had forbidden him from associating with kids below a certain station but Troy had been special, he was Arthur's _friend_...such a good friend that Arthur remembered even now how much he'd liked that brief press of lips, something they'd laughed off not ten seconds later.

He swallowed thickly, his chest knotting uncomfortably at the memory.

 _No, no_. It couldn't be. Merlin had said –

_Merlin._

Arthur's breath hitched in his throat.

His admiration of Merlin was starting to appear to him in a whole new light now and he didn't know what to make of it. Dear god, what was happening to him? Why was just one encounter with a same-sex couple making him question every interaction he'd ever had with a man?

No, no he was certain that he was overreacting and taking things far out of proportion. Merlin was his friend and closest confidante and nothing more. It was better that he stopped thinking about this before he lost all his marbles. It was an absurd notion to even entertain.

But even as he vehemently tried to deny it and to banish the thoughts from his mind, he _couldn't_ convince himself that there was nothing there. His body's reaction to Merlin was absolute and inescapable. He had practically _begged_ his friend to hold him in his arms as he took his last breaths all those centuries ago. That generally didn't mean _nothing_. Did it?

Even now, he couldn't deny the charged current that ran through his veins whenever Merlin smiled at him warmly or when his damp hair fell into his eyes after a bath or whenever he just grabbed Arthur's wrist out of nowhere while crossing the road, because he thought Arthur was foolish enough to get himself killed by one of the speeding vehicles.

The knot in his chest tightened at the revelation and he found himself struggling to breathe.

**

Arthur almost jumped out of his skin the next morning when Merlin placed a hand over his to get his attention.

 _Bloody hell_.

This was not good. Arthur was surely losing it.

He'd never been so hot and bothered when Merlin used to dress him or massage his sore muscles back in Camelot, because he hadn't known that anything _more_ was a possibility, an actual viable option. But now that he did, even the slightest touch was enough to unravel him, reduce him to a twitching mess with a debilitating identity crisis.

Arthur was reminded of an incident of this sort in Camelot that had come before the court, two guilty kitchen maids standing before them who'd been caught at the physical act in the stables. _A vile sickness_ , his father had called it. Arthur hadn't dwelled on it enough to decide if it was or wasn't. Was it?

He frowned.

If the feelings between the two women were the same as what he felt towards Guinevere at the time, how could something as pure and warm as that be a sickness?

No...Merlin was right. There was nothing wrong with it.

Love was the most natural thing in the world.

**

A week later, the war inside Arthur had retreated from the forefront of his mind but it was still a distant presence, prodding and niggling at him to acknowledge and address it.

But no, he would not give in to it. He was already dealing with far too much –he was a former king who’d spent fifteen hundred years in a magical lake and was resurrected in the twenty-first century to find everything and everyone he had ever known wiped clean and replaced with an insane world beyond his wildest dreams. He didn’t _need_ any more on his plate –especially not something that drove him mad with indecision, something he couldn’t make head or tails of.

Moreover, if he had any more sleepless nights, Merlin was bound to notice and get suspicious, which was certain to end in disaster.

Speaking of Merlin, where _was_ he?

He’d left Arthur standing in queue at the supermarket fifteen minutes ago and he still wasn’t back. He tried to look for him as far as his eyes could see but to no avail. Arthur was next in line and if Merlin didn’t hurry up –

“Sir, if you could please move forward,” a honey-sweet voice interrupted his thoughts and he turned back around to face the cashier looking at him expectantly.

“Yes, of course. Sorry,” he said and stepped ahead to get the billing done.

Arthur surreptitiously tried to glance at the cashier’s nametag as she scanned the groceries.

_Kayla._

She was stunning, with a glowing dusky complexion and lustrous black hair that had indigo streaks weaving between them. She looked up from her task to smile at him shyly and he had never seen such green eyes in his life before.

His heartbeat picked up.

A small part of Arthur rejoiced and nearly collapsed with relief because _yes,_ he knew this. This was familiar territory. Seeing a beautiful woman and getting attracted to her. This was _allowed._

Feeling emboldened, he mustered up his most charming smile and said, “Kayla. That’s a lovely name.”

Her face coloured and she fumbled with a packet of crisps before stammering nervously, “Oh –oh, thank you, um –” her eyebrows furrowed at him questioningly.

“Arthur,” he supplied.

“Arthur,” she repeated, biting her lip and beaming.

Before he could continue the conversation however, Merlin came barrelling towards him holding two large boxes of detergent and dropped them in the trolley.

His breath was coming out in short gasps and his cheeks were flushed pink.

“Made it just in time, eh?” Merlin said panting, with an endearingly cheeky grin gracing his features.

Arthur stared into his wonderfully bright eyes and realised with a twist in his gut that now _this_ was allowed too.

**

Arthur didn’t admit it often but he enjoyed a lot many things offered by this modern era he’d found himself in.

Like pubs. Oh, he really liked pubs. They were so much better than taverns. The tabletops weren’t perpetually sticky, there was an unending variety of alcoholic beverages, the seating was much more comfortable than wooden benches and the crowd didn’t exclusively consist of thugs and ruffians.

Arthur sidled into a booth, Merlin doing the same in the one across him.

Merlin rubbed his hands and blew into them for warmth. “It’s so bloody cold,” he complained roughly.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Oh, relax, Merlin. Don’t be such a child. It’s hardly Ismere here.”

“Of course you’d be impervious to it,” Merlin muttered darkly. “Not all of us have skin as thick as yours.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying I’m fat, Merlin? Because fat-shaming isn’t very nice.”

Merlin gaped at him incredulously. “Where did you pick _that_ up from?”

Arthur smirked. “I read.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” responded Merlin. Before Arthur could retort, he got up. “Right, well I’m getting drinks before my organs freeze and shrivel. What do you want?”

Arthur shrugged noncommittally. “Whatever it is you got me the last time.”

Merlin nodded and made his way to the bar.

Arthur occupied himself with a pamphlet on the table, before looking around the place. There was a variety of people there; some laughing with loved ones, some wallowing alone. He could hardly believe that some of them could be descendants of those he’d known in his past life. It was mind-boggling

Just as he was about to turn away, something caught his eye by the bar and his stomach coiled tightly in response.

The bartender, a tattooed muscled man, was leaning forward to clearly flirt with Merlin… and Merlin was _allowing_ it to happen with an indulgent smile. He had both his hands wrapped around their drinks but his feet were fixed on the ground as he chuckled at something probably incredibly stupid the man across the counter said.

Arthur had the maddening urge to go over there and stake his claim on Merlin, even when he knew he had none.

This unpleasant feeling of white, hot jealousy wasn’t a foreign sensation for Arthur. He’d felt this intense possessiveness plenty of times before –when Lord Osgar’s son had swooped in to court Lady Dinah before Arthur could even get a word in edgeways, during the whole fiasco with Lancelot and Guinevere or when a visiting noble had appreciatively leered at her during a feast. He’d even felt it whenever Gwaine unashamedly flirted with Merlin.

Arthur’s heart climbed up his throat. That didn’t mean anything, did it?

It was just that Merlin had been _his._

…his _manservant_ , that is.

But it was silly because Gwaine used to flirt with everyone, regardless of what was between their legs and… _oh, oh god._ Arthur’s head spun as a sudden possibility occurred to him. Gwaine wasn’t –was he? _Was he?_ How could Arthur have been so blind?

He was snapped out of his reverie when Merlin placed their glasses on the table with a loud _thump._

He was looking at Arthur with mild concern. “Is everything okay, Arthur?”

“Gwaine,” Arthur blurted out unthinkingly.

“What?” Merlin’s expression morphed into that of puzzlement, as he slid into his seat.

Arthur cleared his throat, uncertain on how to broach the subject. “I was just thinking of how close you and Gwaine were and wondered if he, err…ever liked you.”

Merlin’s confusion only grew. “Liked me?”

Arthur gesticulated vaguely, hoping Merlin would catch his meaning. “ _You know._ ”

Realisation dawned. ” _Oh,_ ” he said, giving a short burst of laughter. “I don’t know, actually. He did proposition me a few times but I always assumed he was joking because it was _Gwaine._ You could never tell with him.”

“That’s true enough,” Arthur agreed, taking a sip of his drink and wincing as the bitter liquid burned a trail down his throat.

“Didn’t he offer to _loosen you up_ once because he claimed you were too wound up?” Merlin asked, grinning impishly.

“I believe he was mocking me, Merlin,” Arthur said, deadpanning. “It wasn’t like with you.”

Merlin’s eyebrows climbed high into his hairline and he laughed. “Are you serious? Are you _really_ jealous that Gwaine might have fancied me instead of you?”

Arthur _was_ jealous, but not for the reasons Merlin thought and he would take that to his grave.

”No!” he objected. “I’m just informing you of how dumb you were to not see it.”

“Well, I was always running around after a certain someone to notice much else, wasn’t I?” Merlin said softly, smiling at him over the rim of his glass.

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur parroted out of habit, as delicious warmth flowed through his body. A warmth that felt like victory, which was just _daft._

It must be the liquor. _It must be._

**

Later that night, under the influence of copious amounts of alcohol, Arthur finally plucked up the courage to ask Merlin something that had been on his mind for weeks now.

He caught Merlin’s arm just as he was about to retire to his bedroom and asked point-blank if he liked men. Arthur didn’t know where the surge of bravery was coming from for him to initiate such a personal conversation but he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity when Merlin had looser inhibitions too.

To his credit, Merlin sobered up very fast upon hearing his question. He glanced at him quickly and cleared his throat. He looked wary of Arthur for some reason, like he was preparing himself for an unpleasant reaction.

"You might say that," he said at last, very carefully and with a hint of a defensiveness colouring his voice. "Is that a problem?"

Was it? Arthur didn’t know, he was still far too confused. Though he supposed it was objectively okay, he still had a hard time wrapping his head around it when it came to someone he truly knew –couldn’t understand how it all worked. But he wouldn’t judge Merlin for actually knowing his heart. Especially not when Arthur was considering that maybe he felt the same...

 _Oh god_. The tight rope of dread around his chest threatened to suffocate him again at the thought.

Arthur didn't answer Merlin’s question and veered the conversation in another direction. "So the bartender tonight, were you –” 

“Oh, you saw that?” Merlin said, reddening. "No, no he was okay and all but not really my type. I was just being polite...and it feels good sometimes to be looked at like that, it's flattering. You know what I mean?"

Arthur nodded, understanding but not relating. Far too many people had looked at him like that all his life, not even for who he was as a person but for the power he held. It got nauseating after a while. He was honestly grateful now when he walked down the street and no one recognised him but he also understood where Merlin was coming from. Merlin, who’d been underappreciated in the shadows for far too long.

Arthur swallowed thickly and willed his voice not to shake. "How did you come to feel this way? How did you – _know_?"

"Know what? That I like blokes?" Merlin looked surprised by the question. "Hmm well, I didn't know at first, or at least didn't admit it to myself. Back in Camelot –I wasn't...you know. But I've been around for a long time, Arthur. I’ve had a _lot_ of time to explore and discover myself."

A flare of irritation prickled at Arthur because Merlin's answer didn't do anything to dispel his doubts or make sense of the jumble in his head.

He wanted this surety too; he was tired of not knowing himself anymore.

"So you don't like women then?" Arthur tried again tentatively.

Merlin smiled rakishly. "Of course I do. What's not to like?"

Arthur was even more lost now because _what_? He liked both? Merlin was attracted to men _and_ women? He didn’t have to choose between the two? _How was that possible?_

Merlin cocked his head to the side and looked at him like he was trying to read his mind. "Arthur, why are you suddenly asking me all this? Are you –”

Arthur sensed heat rising under his collar at the all too clear direction of Merlin's line of questioning. A sudden urge to defend himself gripped him, to throw Merlin off his scent. He felt _afraid._

"Gods Merlin, it was just a question!” Arthur snapped. “No need to make assumptions."

Something akin to hurt flashed through Merlin's eyes but he masked it quickly, raising his hands in surrender.

"Alright,” he said placatingly. “I wasn’t implying anything. It’s natural to want to know and I’m not ashamed of it in the least.”

They sat in silence for a few moments as Arthur processed his words and Merlin waited for him to say more.

When he didn’t, Merlin stood up and instantly proceeded to stumble over a raised corner of the rug under the coffee table. He righted himself before Arthur could move to steady him and shot him a sheepish smile.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that we’re going to be dealing with some nasty hangovers tomorrow,” Merlin announced cheerfully. “Now, I’m going to go to bed and pass out… unless there was anything else?”

“No,” Arthur answered, feeling guilty about his outburst. He coughed, and looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry for shouting at you.”

Merlin ruffled Arthur’s hair and when Arthur looked up, Merlin held the most tender gleam in his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he whispered.

And that was that.

**

“I don’t label myself.”

Arthur looked up from the book of aerodynamics he was reading (planes absolutely _fascinated_ him) to find Merlin standing at the door, awkward but determined.

Arthur had no idea what he had said. He carefully set his book aside. “What?”

Merlin shuffled forward and cautiously took a seat from across him on the floor. “I –erm –I realised I wasn’t very clear the other day. Uh, about my preferences, that is,” he swallowed, “You must have been confused; I know this whole transition hasn’t been easy for you.”

Arthur was still totally lost. He didn’t _label_ himself? In regards to his _preferences?_ What labels? What preferences?

Merlin looked at the utter befuddlement on Arthur’s face and sighed. “My sexual preferences, Arthur. Remember our talk from a few nights ago?”

Oh. _Oh._

Arthur’s first instinct was to recoil, to move away before he got too deep into it but the mess & conflicting thoughts in his head were far more uncomfortable than this conversation.

So he soldiered on. “Right,” he said uncertainly. “About how you like both men and women.”

Merlin nodded. “Yes. About that. So, if you have anything to ask, you can go ahead.”

Arthur faltered, the question that had been on the tip of his tongue since that night threatening to burst forth. “Well, back in Camelot with us being in such close quarters all the time, did you ever –”

Merlin flushed at the insinuation and Arthur couldn’t tear his eyes away from him.

"No, no" he said quickly. "At least not consciously.”

Then Merlin cracked a small, insolent grin that was painfully reminiscent of his days as Arthur’s manservant and continued, “Don’t worry, _sire_ , I assure you that taking advantage of your state of undress never crossed my mind. Mostly, I used to think about how much I wanted to turn you into a toad."

Arthur laughed, and the tension lifted slightly. “You wound me, Merlin. I would’ve liked to be your sexual awakening, like I was for almost everyone else in Camelot.”

Merlin’s face fell and Arthur had the distinct impression that he’d said the wrong thing.

Merlin’s smile turned a bit sad and he said, “Not to fuel your gigantic ego but you were. Uh, my sexual awakening…in a way.”

Arthur froze. He had not been expecting that. “What do you mean?”

Merlin rolled his eyes half-heartedly. “Oh, please. No need to look at me like that. You weren’t even around. It’s just that after you were…gone, I sort of realised that my feelings of insane devotion for you might not have been, well, entirely platonic. That’s all.”

Merlin suddenly directed his attention at rubbing a spot of dirt on the floor as if it were the most interesting activity in the world.

Arthur stared at him, feeling like someone had placed a heavy rock on his chest. That –that had practically been a confession of love, hadn’t it?

But _no_ , the events Merlin was describing were over a thousand years past. It didn’t disclose anything about the present, and Arthur was too scared to ask –of any potential feelings Merlin might harbour for him now.

It didn’t seem possible, too much had changed. But on the other hand, the way Merlin looked at him sometimes…he didn’t know which answer he'd prefer.

“Well, well, looks like even powerful sorcerers aren’t immune to my charms,” Arthur joked airily, barely able to hear himself think over his thundering heart.

Merlin swatted at his arm in protest. “Not that you _deserve_ any of that devotion. Look at you, centuries of getting restored in the lake of Avalon, and they couldn’t cure you of being a prat.”

Arthur ignored that barb with ease.

“So, which strapping lad did you find as my replacement? Or lady?” Arthur asked, only half in jest. The unpleasant sensation of envy was swirling in his gut again.

Merlin grinned devilishly. “Oh, I experimented tons over the years. Are you certain you want to hear about my sexual exploits? I’m not sure your prudish royal arse could handle it.”

“I’m not a prude!” objected Arthur, scandalised.

Merlin snorted. “Of course you aren’t,” he mocked. Then continued, “So anyway, society kept changing so much every fifty to hundred years that I had a hard time redefining myself again and again. It’s just been easier for me to not label myself. I like who I like, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s enough for me.”

“What do you mean by ‘labelling’?” Arthur wanted to know. He could somewhat get the gist of it but the complete meaning was still out of his reach.

Merlin contemplated for a second, resting his chin on his knees. “Well…there are different types of sexualities based on who you’re attracted to and there are labels for identification that go with it, to make it easier. Some people prefer to label themselves, some don’t.”

Arthur just raised a quizzical eyebrow in response.

Merlin groaned in frustration. “Okay, you know what? I’m not the best at explaining all this _so…_ I brought you something.”

Merlin lifted his palms and a book appeared out of thin air to settle in his hands. He presented it to Arthur with an encouraging quirk of his mouth.

Arthur frowned and took it with hesitant fingers. His eyes scanned the title. It was a book on ‘gender and sexuality’.

Merlin was watching him carefully. "These things are important to know nowadays. The book is just to give you a sense of how things are,” he explained. "I'm not making any assumptions about you."

Arthur flushed at the reference to his outburst from the other night, and clutched the book to his chest.

“Thank you, Merlin,” he said in earnest.

**

At first, Arthur was apprehensive about the book but then eventually sheer curiosity got the better of him and he ended up spending hours reading it, the book on aerodynamics lying forgotten at his feet.

He didn’t fully understand what a lot of it meant, like the terms ‘non-binary’ or ‘transgender’ but he found himself repeatedly coming back to the section on _bisexuality_. It was defined as ‘romantic or sexual attraction toward both males and females, or to more than one sex or gender’ and something just clicked in to place.

It was oddly comforting to see a tangible definition for something Arthur may be feeling, and it seemed to validate him –assured him that he was not barmy for entertaining the thought of being attracted to both men and women. 

Arthur didn't sleep that night. He was in an introspective trance, analysing and going over every piece of information he’d gained, every kind of experience he’d had that might be relevant to it; that might finally help him decide what he _was_ and what he _wanted_.

As they were often prone to do, his thoughts ultimately drifted to Merlin. His closest friend. The only link he had to his former life, someone who knew Arthur better than he knew himself, someone who had stayed around for over fifteen hundred _years_ and then actually _found him_ , providing support and guidance and endless care.

Arthur’s heart fluttered helplessly.

He didn't know what to believe. It was beyond questioning that he and Merlin shared an unbreakable bond transcending every boundary of just 'friendship'. That word didn't nearly encompass what they meant to each other. He had a deep love for Merlin...but did that mean he was attracted to him? Could he envision marrying him, or any other man, with the same surety he'd married Guinevere?

He took a deep breath and tried imagining it. Imagined touching Merlin…kissing him… taking him to bed… waking up next to him…doing it all over again –

His stomach wasted no time in giving an excited and resounding jolt. The response of his body to the image was unmistakable. A small part inside Arthur told him that he was irreversibly gone and there was nothing he could do about it.

Arthur’s breath started coming faster at the prospect and he forced himself to not panic.

It was fine, everything was _fine_.

**

The first thing he saw the next morning when he stepped out was a sleepy Merlin making tea in the kitchen, his movements slow and sluggish.

Arthur stopped in his tracks.

Merlin reached out to open a cabinet overhead, his loose shirt slipping at the neckline to reveal sharp, milky collarbones and –and Arthur was shocked at the way his body reacted to the small exposure of skin.

The sight was downright tantalising.

Before any coherent thought could make itself known, Arthur got the tempting urge to act on all his half-mad fantasies from the night before. He wanted to back Merlin up against the kitchen counter and take his mouth, wanted to see if his hand fit in the curve of Merlin's waist as snugly as he thought it would, wanted to –

Arthur took a shuddering breath. _What was wrong with him?_

That had escalated rather quickly. His thoughts in the morning clearly had no filter or any sense of propriety. He was sure he was blushing spectacularly, if the heat on his face was any indication.

 _But no_. He couldn't do that. Not with Merlin. Merlin was meant to be treasured and cherished, not to be experimented on just because Arthur was a little confused about himself.

No, he wouldn't do that. He _couldn’t_ risk what he had with Merlin just for some much-needed clarity. He'd agonise internally for years if he had to, rather than take advantage of his friend that way.

If he ever wanted anything more with Merlin, he was going to do it _properly._

**

It was an arduous journey before Arthur came to terms with anything. It was a mindless process of constantly going back and forth and there were times when Arthur felt like pitching himself off the highest building he could find.

Some days, he didn’t think about it at all. Some days, he was endlessly plagued with the thoughts of liking men as well as women and questioned if he was even capable of that. Some days, he felt like he was fooling himself, taking things out of proportion just because it was suddenly a possibility.

Some days, he felt sick about it while some days, he was content with the knowledge and felt that he finally knew himself.

It got easier eventually, the information settling and slotting itself in his brain comfortably with time.

Arthur woke up one day and he just _knew._ He found peace.

**

It took three months for Arthur to identify as bisexual, one week after that to kiss Merlin for the first time and half a second for Merlin to kiss back.

**

**Author's Note:**

> Oh wow, it was a struggle to write this but I HAD to do it, no matter how it turned out. This fic is really, really personal to me which is why I am terrified about posting it. It means so much more than any other fic I've ever written.
> 
> Arthur is my ultimate emotional support character and a big part of it is because he's canonically bi for me. With or without Merthur, Arthur Pendragon is bisexual. And that is a source of eternal comfort and validation and warmth for me because I'm bi too.
> 
> So this fic is dedicated to Arthur and all my other bi babies and their struggles. I hope I was able to do it justice.
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://acciomeriin.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Till next time :)


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